Pseudonym
by Page of Cups
Summary: Most of the time he can't stand it. LeonSora implied.


**Title**: Pseudonym

**Author**: Page of Cups

**Pairing**: Leon/Sora (implied)

**Rating**: K

**Word Count**: 742

**Summary**: Most of the time he can't stand it.

**Author's Note**: I've been playing FFVIII. That's the only explanation I can offer.

* * *

Most of the time he can't stand it. A casual, teasing reference was all it took. Sometimes it was Yuffie—usually it was Yuffie—who said it with such nonchalance and a big grin, and though he couldn't hate her for it—couldn't hate any of them for it—his heart shattered again every time he heard it. His spirit crushed. His soul ached as thoughts best kept locked up broke free and every bad feeling of then chewed away at the tattered remains of a broken man.

He felt torn, mind ripped into two parts equally longing to turn around in time and hoping never to go back, to never think of those times again because that was then and this was now. Then had been filled with anxiety and loneliness, but as time went on was replaced with friendship, hope, and over even more time, he fell in love. A world that once seemed cold and unfeeling opened up as he did, learning to laugh and embrace life for all of its joy and tragedy. Until the Heartless came, anyway. It took years to pick up the pieces and reassemble them into something that almost resembled the person he'd become for a brief time before his world's destruction. He survived the first few months on sheer will, forcing himself out of bed, searching for a purpose (or at least a small motivation) to keep living. He didn't want friends. He didn't want to (and never thought he could) fall in love again. There was too much to lose by getting close to anyone. Everyone went away eventually. Then he met King Mickey and had a purpose dumped in his lap whether he liked it or not.

He never thought to object. It wasn't a good feeling—wasn't even a release or a hope—to be charged with finding and guiding the young Keyblade Master against the Heartless. All he knew was that after everything he'd faced with the people he'd lost—after all the times they looked at him to lead and he somehow managed to pull through for them, when the Heartless came, he failed them. Doing anything he could to eradicate the Heartless wasn't revenge; it was penance.

Now he stood in the Bailey, overlooking Radiant Garden with more friends than he ever wanted again. It could have been Aerith who wormed her way in with her gentle words and kind guidance, playing the big sister like Quistis and Ellone had so long ago. It could have been Yuffie in her exuberance who never left him alone despite his resistance just as Rinoa and Selphie had never allowed him to brood too long. It could have even been Sora with his pure heart and innocence, with the same bright blue eyes and restless nature that Zell had, only this time Sora got to be the hero, and Leon was content to sit back and watch the boy shine.

They both had their good and bad points—now and then. He was pleased to know all these wonderful people in his life now, but longed for the people he lost. It became easier to pick up the pieces and move on. Sometimes he almost felt now the way he did then, and that once hard-earned ability to overcome uncertainty because of emotion instead of duty returned. Sometimes he wondered what his life would be like if he knew nothing of the Heartless. He could never firmly say which life he'd rather have, but he supposed it was superfluous to even try. This was now. This was what had happened, these were the choices he made, and when he looked at Sora these days, sometimes he thought that maybe that was okay.

Most of the time he hated it. The casual references brought him back to then and tore away at his already broken soul, but sometimes...

Leon watched Sora from the corner of his eye, frowning.

"It is okay if I tell you everything someday, right?" said Leon.

Sora returned the frown with his own blinding smile and nodded.

"Of course it is."

"It's just...You don't ever even acknowledge it."

"Well that's not the person I met."

Most of the time he hated it, but sometimes he longed to hear it. He ached for it with everything in him, but Leon supposed that maybe that was superfluous, too. After all, he didn't really want to be called Squall, anyway.


End file.
